The Nothing Man
by Tigeress419
Summary: Something happens to Wesley in London. He's now a ghost and something isn't right. It's up to his friends to save him ... if it's their place. Please read and review! COMPLETED!
1. London Calling

Disclaimer: I don't own the show Angel or any of the characters. So don't sue, I'm not making anything money from this.

Author's Note: This fic takes place after Soul Purpose, I guess. Please read and review, I don't care if you don't have anything to say, just say that you took the time to read it. It would mean a lot; this is my first Angel fic! On with the story.

London. My hometown, I was born and raised here, but it didn't feel like home that much. I suppose I just associate this city with pain, my childhood, the Council. That time around though, I was with friends.

It felt odd driving on the left side of the road, again, isn't that ironic? When I first arrived in Sunnydale, California I couldn't figured out why the Americans didn't do the same. 

Besides Angel, I was the hardest to convince to come here. I didn't know why the London branch of Wolfram & Hart want us to come to their annual gala, and didn't want to find out. We only won LA and once we stepped out of that domain we were fair game. However, Jonathan Webster, the CEO of the London branch of Wolfram & Hart told us up front this was only tradition. That every year CEOs and at least some of the senior staffs from the American and British branches came, through Revolution, the War of 1812, WWII and any other major war or disaster. He said that "policy differences" should stop that.

Angel still wasn't going to agree. Jonathan was getting frustrated, and said that if it made us feel any better we could bring a security team and do all protection spells we wanted.

"Mr. Angel do you think I'm some twit to go against the Senior Partners' wishes? It's not very often when they give their word but when they do it's not to be taken lightly. You have the LA branch and we aren't trying to take it back," the British man yelled over the phone a few days earlier.

Angel finally caved in and said to pack our bags for three days. There were meetings for department heads and CEOs for two days and the actual gala was on the evening of the second day. Lorne, since there were not meeting for entertainment department (evidentially that is some unique to LA), agreed to stay behind and make sure that totally chaos didn't break out.

That evening we all went into Wolfram and Hart's private jet. In New York, while refueling, a stowaway was discovered—Spike. Angel, to say the least, wasn't very pleased. Spike had also, accidentally ruined Fred's hanger bag, which contained her red, formal dress. However she was optimistic, as usual.

"I was meaning to buy a new one anyway," she told a tied up Spike (like I said, Angel wasn't happy). 

After day one of meetings, Fred when shopping and called me on her cell phone and asked if I could pick her up, since she didn't have enough money left after buying the dress for a taxi.

"So, did you find something?" I asked her.

"Yeah," she said as she showed me the black dress she brought.

"Classy," I commented as she climbed into the car and shut the door.

"And on top of that I got a great dinner at this Indian restaurant,"

"No wonder you didn't have enough more for a cab," I joked.

"Hey, I haven't been here so I figured I might as well take it all in. I bet this place is sort of boring to you, since you grew up here."

"A little but it's also changed. Please tell me if I start acting like an old man saying, 'that wasn't there' or 'that use to be a shop',"

She laughed, "Okay."

I glanced over and smiled at her. It was the last thing I did.

Next time: What happens to Wesley? How will it affect the rest of the gang, especially Fred? 


	2. Welcome to the Unlife

Disclaimer: I don't own Angel or any of the characters

A/N: Please review, it will mean A LOT to me! Okay, now to the story.

I felt cold, colder than cold, like I went to absolute zero, and then "Boom!"

The car windshield and windows cracked, one of them broke, scattering blunt pieces of glass throughout the vehicle. The metal frame moaned, as it was bent. Then the automobile skidded down street for a bit and stopped.

"Wesley," Fred screamed.

"Fred are you alright?" I asked looking at the gash on her left shoulder. I was looking at her left shoulder, that was impossible if I was driving in a British car. Oh well, I must have been thrown in the crash.

"Oh my God! Wesley!" she shouted again.

"I'm right here Fred," I tried comfort her and put my hand on her arm, but it went right through. She was shaking something. I looked up and I saw myself, or rather, my bloody body.

I was dead.

A tall, middle-aged, brunette woman went right through me and swung the dented passenger door open. She put her motherly, gaunt hands on Fred.

"Miss are you alright-" the woman gasped at the sight of my body. They wasn't anything that suggested I was dead, my neck wasn't at an odd angle, I was cut but nothing major but you could just tell, or rather feel.

"Come out Miss," the woman pulled Fred out of the vehicle. She was bawling and repeating my name.

A sick part of myself was glad to see her cry. That she cared about me. Another, larger, part did want her to see her in that kind of pain.

A blond female companion of the woman handed her the cell phone, "Just called the hospital, an ambulance will be here soon" 

The lady looked at Fred with caring but pitying eyes, "I'm Maggie Brantley, is there anyone I can call for you dear,"

Fred managed to tell Maggie Angel's cell phone number.

Being a ghost, I supposed that is what I was, I could get close enough to hear the other line. The phone rang twice before Angel picked it up.

"Hello," he said.

"Hello sir," Maggie replied coolly.

"Can I help?" he asked, a little confused.

"I regret having to tell you that your friends have been in a car accident. They were driving on Motorway 25 and a SUV from another street plowed right into to them."

"Are-are they okay?"

"The woman has a nasty cut but other than that she's just shaken. The man however… I'm not sure."

There was silence for a moment and then the dial tone came on.

~*~

The lights of the ambulance reflected on the smooth, black surface of Angel's rental car. He stepped out and immediately went over Fred, who was walking away from a paramedic that hat put liquid stitches on the slash on her shoulder.

She had stopped crying but when she saw Angel the tears became to fall again. He wrapped his arms around her as she began the sob uncontrollably. Her shoulders shook so much that I was afraid that her wound would open again. He knew what had happened to me, he could smell death, and he could see it in her eyes.

I remember on the plane something he told me that he wasn't crazy going to London, the actual city, as well as the gala. He said that London always reminded him of death. I assumed he meant that many people had died at his hands in London, and it's probably what he did mean, but I could help but think I was going to become another reason, another death, for Angel not to come to London.

He tried his best to comfort her, but silent tears ran down his face.

"Fred, what's wrong …" Spike began but trailed off as he saw a body covered in a crisp, white sheet …my body.

Gunn and Spike just stared and gaped, not quite sure if this was truly reality or not. Fred on the other hand knew this was real, too real.

"I thought if I didn't see you guys, " she whispered barely loud enough for Angel to hear, "that it would just be a bad dream, that it wouldn't be real. But it's real, it's real."

Next time: How will others (including Wesley's father) react to his death. After that, Spike raises questions that even makes Wes question his death.


	3. Ring, Ring

A/N: Please review, it will be mean A LOT!

Disclaimer: I don't own Angel or its characters.

The four of them returned back to the hotel after talking the police about what happen and the corner's office on what to do with my body. I followed them, wondering why I was still here.

Fred was still crying but making no noise, her eyes were empty. Spike put 

his arm around her, from his face I could tell he was deep in thought. 

Angel kept his eyes on the road, being extra alert, perhaps a little afraid that the same thing might happen twice. They pulled up to the four star hotel that we, or rather, they were staying at no expense via the London branch of Wolfram & Hart. The young, nervous valet took over the car and they filed into the glass elevator going up to the 25th floor. 

Once there, they all went to Angel's suite. Gunn sat in one of the leather chair and tried to watch television but he turned it off after a few moments. The traffic report came on the news and it mentioned a crash on Motorway 25. Fred curled up on the maroon couch. Spike sat on the neatly made bed, still with the same face he had on in the car. Angel took upon himself to make the necessary phone calls.

He called the London branch, telling them I wouldn't be at the meetings or the ball. That was the easy one, now one asked why. Then he slowly dialed LA's area code, followed by more digits.

"Do you know what time it is?" I could hear the green demon.

"Lorne," Angel simply said.

"Oh sorry Angelcakes, I thought you were a Hollywood starlet calling in a panic because she didn't get a part,"

"Lorne," Angel repeated but paused.

"What's wrong?" concern could be detected in the empath demon's voice.

"Wesley … he died." Angel voice cracked slightly.

There was deafening silence, followed by questions, "How-ow? Were you guys attacked? Is everyone else okay?"

"No, a truck ran into his rental car. Fred was in the passenger seat, she has a deep cut but she'll live."

"How is she … emotional?"

"Just a little worse than the rest of us I guess."

"When are you guys coming back?"

"I don't know, I really don't know anymore."

"Call me soon Angel."

"Will do"

They both hanged up and then Angel looked at a number in his leather address book. This was going to be the hardest one.

"They should know." He mumbled to himself.

He didn't press down the numbers to an area code, just 7 digits.

"Hello,"

"Mr. Wyndam-Pyrce,"

"Yes, what is it."

"I don't know if you know yet, but something has happen."

"Well, spit it out then."

"Your son, Wesley, he … he-"

"He's dead, isn't he?"

Angel remained silence.

My father went on, "I remember the last time he called me. It wasn't too long ago. I didn't know that would be the last time I would hear him."

"Do we ever?" 

"I suppose not," there was another pause, " Good Night," 

Why was I seeing this, why was I still here? What is the point? These were thoughts that went through my mind.

Angel seated himself on the opposite side of the king size bed from his grandchilde. He ran his fingers through his brown hair and looked, almost glaring at the simple black phone resting on his mahogany nightstand.

Fred sniffled softly. She had draped one of the hotel's gray blankets over herself but she was still slightly shivering. I absent-mindedly put my hand on her shoulder, however this time it rested on her, or at least it didn't pass through her. Like any other ghost I couldn't feel her or anything. But could she feel me? She reached her hand back and it went right through mine. Her pale fingers rubbed the slightly red bandage on her shoulder.

"Does your shoulder hurt?" Spike asked her.

"No, not really, it just feels weird. I once read in a book that when you get cut deeply, that it hurt at all for a while. You don't feel anything at all. And then later on you begin to hurt."

Spike nodded and began to stare at the beige wall behind me or was he staring at me. Spike had been a ghost, or something like it, not that long ago. Maybe he was more sensitive to spectral disturbances. Could those blue eyes pierce through the astral plane?

The ringing of the phone made him break his gaze.

Next time: Spike raises questions that makes Wesley question his death and scares the living daylight out of Fred.


	4. Mist

Disclaimer: I don't own Angel, it's that simple.

A/N: Thank you so much Eloise for your review and constructive criticism! I have now edited Chapter 3 back to one of its first version. I hadn't realized I had compromised the characters so much in order to put in the "glorifying after death" line, which was in another story of mine, and fitted into this one on advice of a friend. Oh, well this goes to show you go with your gut instinct. Also I temporarily forgot it was Wesley's POV at that one line about Angel's thoughts, thanks for pointing it out! Everyone please review, it's helpful, especially since this chapter has gone through many transformations! Okay, now on with the story!

Angel reached for the phone but was stopped by a voice.

"You've used the phone enough today," Spike commented as he stood up, walked over to the nightstand, and picked up the receiver. Angel decided to move over to the other chair next to Gunn.

"Hello, this is the London Morgue."

"Isn't that lovely?"

"I'm sorry for your loss," the woman said very diplomatically.

"You called just to say that?"

"No. Are you aware of any heart problems that Wesley Wyndam-Pyrce had, Mr… Angel?"

"No, and the name's Spike."

"Are you positive?"

"Pretty sure, why?"

"Well, looking at Mr. Wyndam-Pyrce's injuries, they were severe, but not anything that would cause death."

"That's … interesting."

"I understand there was another passenger in the car."

"Yeah,"

"Did they see anything unusual before the crash?"

"I don't know. I'll have to ask her."

"Alright then, I'll just put the cause of death as the crash. I don't want to think so hard this late at night or do another autopsy. Good bye"

Spike hung up the phone and he an expression on his face, like he was trying fit together the pieces of a puzzle. He ignored Angel's request to know who had called.

Suddenly he came to the realization of something. He immediately rushed over to Fred, who was lying on the sofa. He squatted so that they would be in eye contact.

"Fred, did you see anything weird before the crash?"

She looked at him with a face of shock, as if she was asking herself how he could have possibly knew. The teardrops became heavier.

"What did you see?" he repeated, determined to know, but why?

The weeping became hysterically.

"What did you see," his voice raised and he shook her a little.

Angel stood up, "Stop the damn interrogation Spike."

Gunn looked like he was going to drag away the blonde vampire and beat the tar out of him. However, he was stopped by a barely audible whisper.

"I saw him die Spike."

"How could you? The crash was instant. What happen before the crash?"

She put her hands on her forehead. The shivering had become shaking.

"You only have to say it once, love"

"It was only for a split second, I'm not even sure if it were real or an illusion. There was some much…"

"So much of what?"

"Mist. And someone, something was trying to tear it from his body, rip it out…" the trembling became more violently. She sat up but looked at her blanket.

"What was ripped out?"

Angel then noticed that blood was gushing out of Fred's wound, trickling onto the blank and the couch. As he rushed over to her side, her head shot up so fast it was sicken. Her eyes were completely black and empty. She put her hand around Spike's throat.

"You know what," she yelled as she stood up and threw him against the left, tan wall. A mirror was broken and the small table collapse beneath his weight.

Angel shoved her back on to the velvet sofa. His hands upon her shoulders, holding her down. She was stronger somehow.

"Get out of Fred," he shouted maliciously, since he assumed this was a possession of some sort. 

She just laughed as blood began to drip from the corner of her mouth. Gunn took a cross and pressed on her head but there was no affect.

Then I saw something that the others didn't. There was black mist, something ancient and evil, trying to force it's way in through Fred's gash and in the process it was pushing Fred out of her body. White, or maybe it was gray, airy substance was being forced out from her mouth. Her very soul.

I tried to get it away from her but I passed through, not because I was a ghost but because it was vapor. I was now next to Spike, who was now rummaging through Fred's leather purse. He found what he was looking for and ripped the sides off, which fell to the floor. It was a photograph and he had torn off the part with Angel, Lorne, Gunn, Fred and Cordelia. What was he doing?

Fred punched Angel and pushed Gunn aside and was heading for the door. The process was coming to an end. Spike jumped in front of her and held up the ripped up picture, the part with only me on it. I remember the day we took that photo. Fred was trying to use up the reminder of an old roll of film Cordelia had. She said it would be nice to have a picture with all of us in it. So there we were forever smiling in the foyer the Hyperion. 

That picture made Fred stop in her tracks. Suddenly the mist became solid or at least I could pull it out, allowing Fred to return to her body. I crashed against the window. And for a moment I think they saw me, from the shock and disbelieve in each of their eyes, especially Angel and Gunn's. I couldn't tell you what happened after that, because I disappeared.

Next time: Wes finds himself in a strange new place and is meet by someone from Angel's recent past.


	5. Googolplex

Disclaimer: I don't own Angel, it that simple

A/N: Thank you to those who have reviewed (shaid, Eloise, WhiteRabbit, and Doremi at press time)! I'll try to catch some of my grammatical mistakes earlier but remember I live in Kentucky where grammar is as necessary as a censor on HBO. Sorry, my weird little joke. Eloise, there is a little mention of father/son angst (key word being little) just for you. Doremi, the only reason Spike answered the phone is because I needed him to ask the questions, it'll make more sense in up coming chapters. On with the story!

I was in the hotel room and then I was in a crowded smoke-filled pub.

"You're new," I heard an Irish accented voice next to me said.

I turned to see who was the owner of it, a man, in his twenties, with black hair and blue eyes. He seemed so familiar, but I couldn't place where I had seen him before. He took a long sip from his drink. 

"Where am I?" I wondered aloud.

"I gave up trying to figure that out a long time ago. Some say this is a verison of Purgatory and that we'll be here until Judgment Day,"

"Purgatory is a bar?" I said more to myself than him.

"This isn't exactly somewhere that you come to celebrate at. It's bad but it isn't the worst thing."

I nodded in agreement. This place was full broken dreams and sorrows. Suddenly, a woman, her gray hair sticking out in every direction, with a permanent marker scribbled a circle on the clear glass in front of me.

"She's taking advantage of the new mug," the man explained.

"What is she doing," I inquired as the eccentric scrawled a circle within another circle, which was encompassed by another circle, etc. on the man's half-full glass.

"From what I've gather she's trying to write out googolplex."

I recall that Fred once told me of that obscure mathematical term. She said that googolplex was a lot like googol, but it meant 1 followed by as many zeros as you can write before your hand got tried instead of just a hundred. I observed that there zeros squiggled all over walls, the tables, the mugs, the chairs, just simply everywhere. And like it was on the man's mug there were zeros inside of zeros. I also noticed that the lady was missing a hand.

"I think it fell off," the Irish man commented.

"How long have you been here?" I asked, not entirely sure if I wanted to know the answer.

"I don't really know, I lost count of the days, but I think it was around five years ago."

"Where were you before you were here."

"If you mean after I died, I came straight here, why?"

"I think I was a ghost,"

"It must have been pretty weird, seeing your family morn and all."

I remained quiet.

He continued, "They must have been devastated."

I learned a long time ago not to speak on my father's behalf.

Seeing that this wasn't a good topic he changed the subject, "Do you know why you were a ghost, that usually means you had unfinished business."

"I believe it was to save Fred," I said as the bar tender poured me a drink.

"Who is he?" 

"She actually," I noticed the confused look on his face, "Her name's Winifred but we all called her Fred for short."

"Oh, we you two together?"

"Not in the way I think you mean,"

"Did you want it to be like that?"

For some odd reason I nodded, why was I telling a stranger this?

"I left behind a girl too. Never had the chance to find out if it could have worked out between me and Cordelia Chase."

I nearly drop my glass when I hear that name. How did he now her? I then realized who I was talking too, Doyle. Before I had a chance to say something I was thrown back. 

"You don't belong here yet," a sinister voice whispered.

I then found myself in a hospital.

Next time: Fred isn't out of the woods yet. Angel and the others are forced to ask for help from an unlikely (okay, maybe not that unlikely) source, while Wes is trying to figure out why he got kicked out of Purgatory bar. 

A/N: The reason why I don't think Wesley would have recognized Doyle is because he probably only hear stories and maybe a picture of him. 


	6. Internal

Disclaimer: I don't own the show Angel it's that simple.

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews! I will try to find the typos beforehand. Eloise, maybe when I'm sleeping I'm getting TV signals for that show because that is weird. I'm sorry but I haven't seen it, I don't even get BBC America with my standard cable. Sorry if this chapter is a little boring but it's a lot of explanation of what happened when Wes was gone. On with the story.

I found myself in yet another new place. I studied my surroundings, a long hallway with many doors on each side. A man in scrubs hurried down the corridor, going right through me. At first I thought he was retrieving the distraught teenage boy in the straitjacket, but he passed through the boy as well. He was a ghost.

"Which hospital am I at?" I asked but the adolescent floated by me.

"Am I even in a hospital," I continued but he ignored me. I dismissed his unresponsive behavior as a part of the mental illness he must have had when he was alive.

I wandered through the building, trying to find out exactly where I was. I came across another two ghosts, both old women, who were gossiping about the happenings of the living.

"Where am I?" I catechized but they too were oblivious to me.

I gave up, and I went down the hall and turned, passing right through Angel, who was using the pay phone. It's one thing going through normal people, it's a complete other thing going through someone that is already dead. It wasn't as cold as I felt before the crash but it was close to it.

"I'll call you when we know more, Lorne," he said and the hung up the phone.

He returned to his seat next to Gunn, across from Spike. The agonizing boredom was probably was just for a few minutes but it felt much longer. Then there were footsteps. Angel and Gunn looked up to see a surgeon, but Spike's head remained down. Angel stood up to meet the man.

"I have bad news and good news, which one first."

"Bad," Angel replied, much to the dismay of the doctor.

"Well, it makes more sense if I say the good first. The surgery went very well, probably because we did have to do all that much work. The internal bleeding is hardly as serve as shown by the initial tests. The bad news is I now have to figure out what is wrong with my equipment, or else it's a quite a lot of money down the drain."

Angel wasn't exactly amused with the physician. Gunn breathe a sigh of relief, while Spike lit up.

"Sir, no smoking, oxygen is being in use," the doctor informed.

"No kidding, we all have to breath," Spike snickered under his breath.

"Spike," Angel gritted through his teeth.

"Bloody alright then," Spike said as he drove the cigarette into the metal armrest of the chair.

"So is she going to be okay?" Angel asked.

"Yes, but we'll be keeping her until tomorrow around noon?"

"Can we see her?" 

An exasperated look washed over the surgeon's face, "If it were up to me but, Nancy. She a bit obsessive with no disturbances during recovery, especially since you're not family-"

"We're not blood related."

"I don't see the problem in it. If Nancy starts fussing just say you have a doctor's permission … just don't tell her it was I."

Angel nodded and headed into room 401, Gunn followed him and Spike trudged along a few yards behind them. I got there before them since I could go through walls. I saw her lying there, the machines monitoring her vital signs. I felt a pang of guilt. This all started happening after I died, maybe –

Stop it Wesley, you can't change what has already happened, I scolded myself as I had done many times before. 

A busy woman strolled right through me. Her gray hair was pulled back in a bun but you could tell she had a long day since pieces hanging around her face. She was taking note of Fred's conditions. 

Angel and the others entered, to receive a scowl from the woman. This was obviously Nancy that the doctor spoke of.

"What are you doing here?" she said in a Welsh accent.

"Seeing a friend," Spike replied. Nancy's eyes squinted as she studied Spike. She hardly approved of his hair or style. She didn't voice her opinion aloud but you could tell by her face. _How could a nice young girl be associated with a scamp like that?_

Her face smoothed out again, "You're friends that makes sense, you surely don't look like family," she commented as she eyed Gunn.

Gunn was about to say something when Fred awoke, "Charles?"

"Fred," Angel and Gunn both said in unison.

Nancy strolled out, snorting softly as she passed by Spike.

"No wonder the bloody sap makes such horrible jokes, he has to work with that hag," he muttered under his breath. Angel must have heard him because he gave his grandchilde a look.

"How are you feeling?" Gunn asked.

"Good," Fred lied.

There was an awkward silence, which was then broken by Fred's voice.

"Before I passed out, did you guys see what I saw … or at least what I think I saw?"

"I'm not sure of what I saw –" Angel began but was interrupted.

"I'll clear it up for you. A bunch of black fog being pulling out of Fred by a translucent Wesley," Spike leaned against the wall.

"Black fog? I didn't see that, but then again …" Fred trailed off.

"Neither could Gunn over there. Only me and Mr. Broody got a glimpse of it, and that wasn't until it got pulled out of you."

"So," Fred looked at everyone hesitantly, "Do we know what kind of demon it was?"

"I don't think it was a demon," Angel sighed, "something much worse."

"But how do we know for sure?"

"We don't, it was usually Wes that handled this stuff," Gunn stated.

Even if I was there, they able to see and hear me, it wouldn't have don much good. I was completely stumped.

Yet, another wave of quiet washed upon the group, I suspect because of the mention of my name.

"We have to help him." Fred said softly, her fingers played with the sheets.

"You mean make him corporeal. Sorry Fred but that is-" Spike began but he was cut off.

"Getting into the realm of resurrection, I know, and that isn't what I mean. I did some research when you weren't corporeal, and being a true ghost isn't like what you were. You can't see them or hear them, unless under special circumstances. It's like you're nothing, and you're fully aware."

"So what did you mean?" Angel asked.

"I meant getting him … to wherever he needs to be."

This statement made me think about the Purgatory I had been in. Why was I taken out? Why didn't I belong, like that voice said? I was dead wasn't I, that is where dead people go. I came to the sicken realization of something. Fred wasn't out of danger yet. I still had more work to do.

Ironically Spike said the exact opposite I was thinking, " I think he did what he need to, save you from that black fog. We have to find out it's got a proper name. I sick of bloody referring to it as 'the black fog'. "

"But who would know that information?" Angel stared out through the small window.

"I really don't, I mean we just here at a bloody get-together of all these Wolfram & Hart people," Spike used his trademark sarcasm.

"I'm not asking them," Angel glared at the vampire.

"It's not like we have a choice, and they do have good resources," Gunn try to persuade. 

Angel moaned, "Okay, we'll see them tomorrow."

"And what will be doing until then, twiddling our thumbs?" Spike remarked.

"It's nearly 11:30, who would be working."

"Believe me, if all the branches are like LA, a bloody lot of people. I should know."

"Fine."

"Right then, Fred I trust that you are in the utmost care with that Welsh bint." Spike smirked.

Fred rolled her eyes and nodded as the three left. Though, Gunn halted and faced her.

"Fred, you said you saw the black mist in the crash, but how? We had come to the conclusion that maybe only dead people could see it."

"It wasn't black, it was white …" she thought about this, " or maybe it was gray, I couldn't really tell. The lighting in a car isn't all that great."

Next time: The gang gets an explanation from their fellow Wolfram & Hart workers and it's not good … like apocalyptic, hellish bad.


	7. Metallic

Disclaimer: I don't own Angel, it's that simple.

A/N: I have editing the chapters and I think I worked out the weird paragraph thing (a few indents got mess up between Microsoft Word, my floppy disk, and downloading on the Document Manager) and fixed all the typos I've found. However, I can't figure out why when I type three dots to represent a pause (what do you call those?) it only comes out on FanFicition as one, like a period. It's really annoying and if anyone can tell how to fix it I will put up the edited chapters. Shadid, I sorry if you got confused in Internal but they are going to Wolfram & Hart (the still evil London branch) for help, however a BtVS character might make an appearance now that you mentioned it.

I pondered about what Fred said she saw before the crash, as I followed the others to Wolfram & Hart. She witnessed my soul leaving my body. That explained why I felt so cold, but why was mine sent out so fast and hers was slowly pushed out?

My thoughts were interupped when they arrived at Wolfram & Hart. Spike was right about how there were people working late. There were many still preparing for tomorrow's meetings and that evening's banquet. I also knew of at least one person that would be awake into the hours of the night, Belle Tanner, the head of research at this branch. She led the meeting I had participated in just some hours earlier. From what I observed, she had to be half, or at least part, Jespina demon. She had long violet hair, pulled back, and in her celery green irises there were large silver dots. She also had a metallic hint to her skin, it matched her personality. Jespina demons only need to sleep very little amount of time, however she was also human, so I supposed 2 hours would be considered a good rest.

It took the group a little bit before they were directed to her office. Spike and Gunn waited outside while Angel went in. The door didn't even creak but she knew someone had entered. 

"What is the meaning of this late visit Mr. Angel?" she asked, not looking up from her paperwork. I believed that she probably picked up a vampiric scent when Angel or Spike was about 100 yards away. 

"We have a problem."

"Why should I care," 

"You don't have to care, just help."

"Could you be vaguer?" she stood up to file away some papers.

"A friend of mine died, you know him, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce."

"That's a pity, he seemed to be the only somewhat intelligent one out of the LA branch."

"And the head of LA's science department, Winifred Burkle, was possessed by something afterwards, and I want to know what it was."

"Why should I help you?"

"Because I say so."

"Is that a threat, Mr. Angel? Because if so I must inform you that I could take you down in a blink of an eye," she said as if she had told him what the weather was outside.

"I doubt that."

"Really?" she turned and briskly threw a pen towards Angel's heart but he caught it.

"Yeah,"

His quick reaction seemed to gain some respect from her, "Do you know what demon it was?"

"It wasn't a demon, at least I don't think any demon appears in the form of a black fog."

"Do please tell."

As Angel explained exactly what happened, I walked through the wall to see what Gunn and Spike were up to, evidentially a fight.

"It's not my bloody fault! You should watch where you're going!" Spike yelled at an infuriated auburn-haried, young woman. She picked up the last remaining papers on the floor next to a broken cup. She tried to straighten out her silk blouse, which had holes with brunt edges and beneath the skin was bleeding. 

"Yeah, maybe that would have worked if you hadn't suddenly jumped in front of me, you son of a bitch," she shouted in a Scottish accent.

Gunn had been trying his best to calm the two but that last comment was the final straw.

"That's it," Spike bellowed as he lunged at the girl, breaking through the wooden door. 

The two began to trade punches and kicks. She brought her leg around his knees, making him lose his balance. In retaliation he pushed her into a small desk on the left wall. She reached up by the now broken computer and grabbed a disc. She had a firm grip on Spike's neck and she was about to decapitate him with the disc when she stopped at the command of a voice.

"Josephine," Ms. Tanner said in a not raised but stern voice. It reminded me oddly of a voice I heard during my youth.

The young woman removed herself from Spike, and stood up, "Yes, Ma'am?"

"What is the meaning of this?"

"I was bring your cup of Salere potion and that report you wanted when I was knocked down-"

"So you started a bar room brawl?"

"I'm sorry for obviously disturbing a meeting," the woman looked at Angel and then down at the floor.

"Go and get some sleep in one of the office's, maybe then you won't be so agitated."

"Thank you Ma'am," she walked out calmly.

Spike got back on his feet and wiped away the blood from his mouth. She had come too close for comfort. He and Angel began to argue but Gunn stopped them.

"I don't want to referee another fight, so the both of you just shut it. Besides we have more important things," he said looking at Ms. Tanner, but she now was off the topic Angel and she had been discussing.

"You're William the Bloody, " she said.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"I thought you couldn't leave LA in your state,"

"Well, I'm corporeal again,"

"That is very interesting," her lips began to curl into a wicked smile.

"How did you know about him?" Angel asked.

"We have our sources,"

From look on Angel's face I could tell he didn't what to deal with this now. However, as soon as he got back to LA that I knew he would try to find these 'sources'.

"You were saying before that you didn't think it was a possession. Why?"

"Because you said that Ms. Burkle felt like she was being forced out of her body. In possessions victims are buried deep within themselves while the demon is on the surface, controlling their body."

"So what was it?" Gunn asked but before she had a chance to reply, sirens when off.

"Security breech," she explained as she took a sword off the wall behind her desk and toss it to Angel, then an ax to Spike, and another blade to Gunn.

"What makes you so sure that we'll help you?" Angel inquired, looking at the weapon in his hands.

"Couldn't I have ask you the same?" she walked past him.

"What are you taking?" Gunn asked.

Her back facing them, she rose her silvery hand, and her black, talon-like nails extended out for an inch.

"These."


	8. Choice

Disclaimer: I don't own Angel, it that simple.

A/N: Thank you for the reviews! Thank you Eloise for your tips, I have now edited my chapters and they look good! Sorry this chapter took so long but like many of you have being saying in your reviews you can wait to see where this is going, well I'm not sure either (I have an outline but still there is a lot of room for changes)! It's fun but it doesn't give you the comfort like a story practically set in stone does. It's mostly the transitions that are driving me crazy. If you don't like the directions this fic may be heading too, please feel free to yell at me (that is NOT an invite for flames).

The lights flickered as the group walked down the hallway, to the stairs.

"Do you know who broke in?" Gunn asked as they entered the dark stairwell. It seemed like it was rarely used by anyone, since cobwebs abound.

"No, but I have a feeling who," Belle Tanner replied as she jumped over the handrail, falling a 3 stories before landing elegantly on the main floor. She walked out the door into the lobby. Spike and Angel followed in suite. 

"Great," Gunn groaned as he continued down the flights. 

I wasn't sure why, but I was afraid of letting myself pass through the concrete steps, it wasn't like it would hurt me. I was ghost now. But what would stop me from falling through the main floor, straight to the center of the Earth, to the center of Hell?

Myself, I answered my own question. I disappeared through the gray stairs. It didn't feel cool and smooth like stone. The cement felt like everything else I felt now--nothing. I came to the first floor just as Gunn did. A smile crept on his face, I suspect because this reminded him of the good old days, when he was the muscle of the team.

As we entered the lobby to a free for all. Six girls were taking out the security team like they were a joke. Throwing them against walls, windows and desk were being broken. Spike and Angel were standing still, not exactly knowing what they should do since Belle was laughing.

"Rupert, where are you?" she smirked.

Out of the shadows Rupert Giles appeared. A dark look on his face.

"Belle, where-" he was cut off.

"Ms. Tanner," she corrected, seeming to be enjoying this very much.

"Where is the slayer you're retaining?"

"Rupert-"Belle began but was interrupted.

"Mr. Giles," he repeated what she had done.

"Mr. Giles, I'm not aware of any slayer being in our building against her will. I may not be in the legal department but I do know what habeus corpus is"

Angel spoke up, "Belle, if you are lying-"

"Why would you care? You're a part of them now," Giles snapped, and then an expression of disbelief washed over his face as he noticed the blonde vampire standing next to Angel.

"Sp-Spike, you're alive?" Giles stuttered, unsure of himself.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath, "Yeah, I've been haunting Peaches here and now I'm corporeal again."

"You didn't tell us…you didn't even tell Buffy," Giles spat at Angel.

"It was complicated," he replied.

"Oh, you know the Ripper here?" Belle turned, her fingers twiddling with her turquoise and silver pendant.

Suddenly, Josephine sleepily exited an office. She must have awaked because of all the commotion.

"What's going on?" she asked rubbing her eyes.

"Jo," one of the girls said in a Welsh accent. Crimson streaks ran through her chin-length, dark brown hair. She wore simple dark jeans and a tight, black sleeveless shirt that revealed her pale midriff. I noticed that one of her many necklaces were made entire of fangs, and looked they very real. 

"Wynn," Jo replied, staring at the girl, or rather young woman. She appeared to be a little older than the rest of them, same age as Josephine.

"You're not being held her, are you?"

"Here I can have a fairly normal life. I don't have to live every day just to fight another evil-"

"Because you're with the evil," Giles interjected.

"It's just like any other law firm, only difference is that it deals with demons," she answered.

"Josephine, I know that you do think so, but the justice system is for the most part good," Giles looked into her emerald eyes.

"Is the part where you say that if I work for them I'll go to Hell, because I going there no matter what I do. In church they told you that if you were truly sorry you got a second chance, but that isn't true. I mean, here's a vampire with soul," she gestured to Angel, " and he's suppose to be the sorriest son of bitch on the planet, but I'm sure that a cross still burns him."

"That's different Josephine," Giles sighed.

"Not really. A vampire is some mixture of human and demon, so is a slayer. Both killers,"

"Josephine, you're not bad-"

"No, I was just really screwed up before I was ever a slayer."

Wynn shouted, "Jo! Life's tough and we all have things we regret, that we wish we could bury, but just deal with it, damn it! We all have too and we don't make a spectacle of it."

Josephine stared blankly and walked away. The sound of her high heels echoed throughout the area.

"I told you Rupert," Belle cocked her head a little, " we aren't holding a slayer against her will."

"Giles maybe I could talk to her-" Angel started but was interrupted. 

"I have no business with you now Angel since you associated now with Ms. Tanner,"

Angel was now very annoyed and angry, "We're not them, we have different policies. We are trying to use the LA division for good,"

"So why are you here, and not in LA?"

"There's this big gala-"

"In the middle of night?"

"Look, I'm here right now because Fred was nearly killed by this dark mist! And…" Angel trailed off when he noticed the look on Giles' face.

"Did you say the Dark Mist?"

Belle quickly followed, "You said black fog when you were telling me the story."

"Aren't they synonyms?" Gunn said, very confused. I was perplexed myself, what did Belle and Giles know? 

"What do you know about?" Angel asked.

"Plenty of books in our library mention it," Belle commented, this had now become a persuasion match between her and Giles.

"Do you think she'll truly help you? She wants the apocalypse!" he yelled.

"Not an apocalypse the Dark Mist will bring, but a long one, where there is plenty of money and power to be gain,"

"Doesn't matter, they all have contracts that extend death. What happened Angel?"

"Well, there was a car accident-" Angel started.

"If you tell him don't expect any help from Wolfram & Hart. Make a decision Angel, now," Belle gave her ultimatum. 

Next time: Who will Angel choose? Also, Fred sees someone she didn't expect… or that could be in the chapter after next. Sorry, I got to work it out.

A/N: I know the whole Jo conversation was vague but her situation will be explained in coming chapter(s), as well as who Wynn is.


	9. Higher Authority

Disclaimer: I don't own Angel, it's that simple.

A/N: Please review, if only to say that you read it. 

Before Angel could reply to Belle's demand the voice of CEO of the London branch was heard.

"Belle, you know better than to give terms like that, especially to a CEO of a division," Jonathan Webber said as he walked in, surveying the damage.

"What are you doing here, Jonathan?" Belle asked angrily, still looking at Angel.

"I was called about the security breech," he continued to study the state of the area, "This is going to cost us."

"It's only a few broken windows, walls… and guards," Wynn muttered.

Mr. Webber looked over to a woman with raven hair that standing behind him, "Jennifer, many will see this as an omen. Make sure no one finds out about this."

"Sir, there is no way we can get someone to repair the damage before the banquet begins. I already checked."

He groaned, "Postpone it by a few hours. Please notify everyone attending."

She nodded and walked away, leaving Mr. Webber to deal with the problem in front of him.

"I'm sorry if the way Belle worded that statement made it appear that we didn't want anything to do with you if you made a decision. You are welcome to the banquet, actually you must come to the banquet. I'm not wasting all that money for your hotel. You may work with Mr. Rupert Giles…but if you find his resources limited, you may come here… for a price though," 

Belle glared at her boss, he was the only one that could override her authority, and it was visible that she hated it. Giles however was very entertained by seeing Belle being put in her place.

"Thank you," Angel reluctantly replied and walked out of the building, followed by the others. Wynn stayed behind for a minute looking around, I imagine seeing if Jo was anywhere nearby, but she wasn't. The Welsh woman sighed and continued.

"What's the Dark Mist?" Angel asked as they were walking on the pavement.

"What happened?" Giles answered with another question.

Angel took a long and unnecessary breath but before he could speak Spike did.

"Wesley died and Fred got possessed by it. So what is it," he said bluntly. 

"Oh…I'm terribly sorry, he was a good man," he was obviously taken back by the news, "Well, The Dark Mist, also called The First's Child—"

"Wait a second, who would bang The First," Wynn commented.

Giles rolled his eyes, "It's called The First's Child because it was the first thing The First created,"

"So, it's like The Second?" an American girl with short, chin-length, golden hair almost giggled in her Southern accent.

"I suppose you could think of it like that Marci, " Giles replied, not entirely sure if she had been sincere or it had been a sarcastic remark.

"Let's not talk about this here, I'm sure they can still hear us," Wynn gestured to the large building.

"Where is Fred?" Giles asked.

"At St. Christopher's Hospital,"

"Where is that?"

"Just follow me," Angel replied as he climbed into his rental car.

Spike and Gunn did the same, and for some reason so did Wynn. She observed the strange look she received.

"What? You think I want be stuck in that tiny thing again?" she cocked her head over the Giles' automobile.

Angel looked to Giles through the window, who nodded. He pulled out, and tried to get away from the London division as fast as he could. Silence filled the car, but Wynn broke it.

"Aren't you William the Bloody?" Wynn said, sounding frightening close to Belle.

"I swear, what's with you people, I haven't call myself by that name for ages,"

"I had a dream about you when I was thirteen," Wynn stated, as she fiddled with her fang necklace. She wasn't in a hurry to clarify that comment, I think she enjoyed it when everyone was squirming a little.

"What was up with that Jo girl?" Gunn asked, trying to change the subject.

"She thinks the world suck and she has no chance of redemption, because she killed a man."

"It's not her fault, she probably didn't know her own strength."

"She killed him before she was a slayer… he tried to rape her and they got into a fight and according to the court she used 'unnecessary' force. She got sent to jail and when she received her slayer strength she broke out," Wynn explained.

Silence filled the car. It always seemed that slayers ended up having horrible pasts, and then being the slayer, or now, a slayer made things worse.

Soon they were there, and as we walked down the hallway, Giles told the slayers to wait outside. Spike gave him a brief description on what Fred had said back in the hotel. While he was doing so, I entered the room through the wall, but Fred wasn't in her bed. I looked around, but she wasn't in there at all. The others soon saw what I did. Suddenly, Nancy came in and a frown came upon her face.

"You're too late," she said. Those words sent chills down everyone spines. Where was Fred? Spike's fear quickly turned into assumptions and anger.

He shoved Nancy against the wall, causing her to drop her clipboard.

"What did you do to her? Where is she?" He asked as he used his forearm to choke the older nurse.

"I didn't do anything, she just was taken to a private room," Nancy managed to squeeze out.

Spike immediately released her, realizing that she could probably have him kicked out in a second now. Wynn came into to the room, drawn by the activity like a moth to a light. Her face became stone when she saw Nancy, and vices versa.

"Wynn," Nancy said simply as she straightened out her uniform.

"Nice to see you too, Mum," she answered back.

Spike's jaw dropped slightly, and everyone else was shocked, even Giles.

"Are these friends of yours?" Nancy eyed the blonde vampire.

"Just acquaintances,"

There was an awkward, and almost angry, silence. It was apparent that the two of them hadn't ended on the best of terms.

"Well, Wynn, please take them out of here to Room 248. That is where Winifred Burkle is," Nancy stated as she hastily exited, visibly upset by seeing her daughter again.

Wynn remained silence, as the others went to that new room. They didn't see but a solitary tear slid down her pale face. She quickly wiped it away, and walked out.

I went to Room 248, and sure enough there was Fred, soundly asleep. She looked so peacefully, and I'm sure no one wanted to break that but this was important. Angel slowly went over to her side, and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Fred, wake up," he said softly. Her eyelids gradually opened, and then almost in panic she checked her surroundings. She sat up and sighed.

"Damn," she said so quiet that probably only Angel and Spike could hear her.

"What?" Angel said confused.

"I was hoping that it all had been just a nightmare,"

Angel nodded, knowing what she meant. Giles approached her.

"Fred can you please tell about what happened with you and the Dark Mist," he said.

Fred shot a glare at Spike, but it took him a while to figure out why.

"Don't worry, love, I'll keep my promise…only once. He wants to know about what happened in the hotel room, not the crash."

"Oh," she looked to Giles, "After the crash, I felt cold, but I thought it was just because… of what happened. But it got colder and colder, like I was caught in an Alaskan blizzard… no worse than that. It was gradually, no sudden burst of winds like in a snowstorm. My perception was changing, it was moving forward, but I didn't really pay attention. I had other things on my mind…" she trailed off again.

Why was she so afraid to talk about my death? Was it about what happened last time she did, in the hotel room?

"Please go on,"

"When Spike started asking the questions, I didn't want to answer. Every time I thought about what happened before the crash, it got colder faster. Like it didn't want me to talk, but Spike was so convincing, how could one time hurt me?"

Guilt washed over his face, "Sorry, I didn't know."

"Don't be, it was going to come out sooner or later… I feel myself losing control, being pushed out, my insides being roughed along the way… but when Spike held up that picture, I could go back in, and my insides seemed to be put back fall back into place, not completely though. I guess that why there was some internal bleeding."

"So it try to take over your body,"

Fred nodded.

"She left out a part," Spike said, "When I held up Wes' picture he, his ghost I mean, was able to pull it, the Dark Mist, out of her… I think"

"How did you know to do that anyway?" Angel inquired.

"A little birdie told me, Peaches,"

"Seriously Spike, " Giles cleaned his glasses, "how did you know?"

He shrugged, "As strange as it may sound, it was instinctive."

Giles rubbed his temples, "This isn't good, not good at all."

"What is it?" Angel sat down on a nearby bench. This room was much nice than the previous one, with its seating, calming décor and large TV with a DVD player. I wondered why Fred was moved here, Angel hadn't asked for this or at least I never saw him. Besides if he had, he would have known that she wasn't in Room 401 anymore.

"While the First created the Dark Mist much like itself however it could affect people physically. At the same time, it's indestructible. Many eons ago, The First and it came very close to ending the world but they were stopped when a group witches and warlocks using all energy in the Champions and therefore killing them, dispersing the particles of Dark Mist throughout every dimension, plane, and corner of the universe. If I'm correct, patches of it are reforming, but we have a chance of stopping it without losing any Champions since it's not at full strength,"

"How do we know it's not at full strength?" Spike asked.

"All the patches would be joined together and cover all of London. Also you would die by just walking in to it. "

"And it picked the one place on the planet where it's normal to have that amount of fog. No one would notice it reforming," Angel stared at the floor.

"But it, or at least a patch of it, messed up with Wesley. It tried to enter so fast that all his organs shut down, at the same time pushing him out of his body. The other patch trying to get into Fred did it slower, so that her body processes wouldn't stop."

"What makes you think it was an entirely different patch trying to get into Fred, maybe it was the same one." Gunn suggested.

Before Giles could reply the American girl walked in, "Mr. Giles, Wynn is reciting Sex Pistols lyrics again and-" she stopped when she saw Fred, "Oh My GOD, is that you Fred, Fred Burkle!"

Fred studied the girl for a moment and the excitement washed over her face, "Marci Clifton? The same Marci I babysitted for?"

"The one and only. So how did you end up here, I mean London," she replied, reminding me of Harmony… if Harmony was Texan.

"Gala, how did end up here?"

"Well, I got into Oxford,"

"That's great, you always wanted to go there,"

"Yeah, and then six months ago I got really strong and it ends up I am a slayer. At first I was really freaked out but Mr. Giles found me and everything been good since."

"Wow, that explain why you could always open those pickle jars so easy,"

"Marci, do you mind?" Giles said, becoming agitated.

"No, not at all," she said clueless as she place herself in a chair.

Giles sighed, "What was I saying before."

"Why you think it was two different patches," Gunn repeated.

"Ah yes. It had to be two patches because that patch of the Mist is trapped inside…Wesley's body, even though it's no longer function…though it could probably get the body to work again with the help of some magic. "

"Is there any way that patch can get out of the body?" Angel asked somberly.

"I'm sure if the body is cut open it could get out… oh dear, the morgue-"

"Don't worry about it, she's too tired to do an autopsy," Spike said.

"What?" Fred said very confused, but not nearly as confused as Marci.

"Well that phone call was from the London Morgue. This lady was asking me all these question on whether Wesley had any heart problems because it 'appeared' that he didn't died from the crash. When I said no she told me she would just put down the crash as the cause of death, because she didn't want to do another autopsy," he explained.

Giles looked at him, " You've been away here for too long. You really thought that a British woman would give up that easily!"

"No true scientist gives up that quick," Fred commented.

"She probably is under the influence of The First, maybe even able to do the magic required to allow the Mist to use the body again. We have to get there quick," Angel stood up and put on his coat. Gunn turned to the doorway but stopped in his tracks. There was someone standing there that he didn't expect to see…it was me.

Next time: Someone very close to Fred attacks her and the group discovers Wesley's terrible fate from an unlikely source. 


	10. One out of One

A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long, school's been crazy. Please read and review!

Disclaimer: I don't own Angel, it's that simple.

Fred gasped, "We're too late."

"Hello Fred," the impostor replied. It was sickening, seeing this impersonator talking like me, walking like me. It even had my mannerisms down.

"It's not him," Angel said.

"It's the First," Spike completed Angel's thought.

"It's nice to see you too," I, or rather the First, answered. It walked over to Fred's side.

The First continued, "I can see it in you. He may have pulled the Dark Mist out but you are forever stained, like he is," it gestured towards itself, still looking like me, "And because of that stain no one wants to claim him."

"What is that suppose to mean," Fred spat.

"He has nowhere to go. He's destined to haunt this Earth alone. Even after the Apocalypse he will still roam the ruins, or at least the space this planet occupied for all of eternity. His own personal Hell"

A silent tear ran down Fred's face, "You're lying."

"You cry because you know this is the truth," it walked closer to her, and it obviously made her very uncomfortable.

"Don't worry, love, it can only hurt you with words." Spike explained.

"Oh yes, but those words can help others make important decisions."

It wasn't until then I noticed Marci. A stake was in her right hand, high about her head, aiming towards Fred's heart. Angel saw it too, and he tried to get over there but he was too late. Marci weapon came down with force, and a metal object plunged into her skin—her skin, meaning Marci's. Fred had been hiding a scalpel behind her back, I suspect she took it from the medical tray on her nightstand. Fred purposely stabbed Marci in her right arm, pinning it to the wall.

"Sorry Marci," she said quietly.

"How did you know?" she asked in shock.

"That 'everything is good now' comment was a dead give-away. You said something like that when your parents got divorce and the next day you had a nervous breakdown at the Al's Grocery Store. Plus, the First made me nervous"

"You missed every vital artery or vein," Marci gritted through her teeth as she pulled the blade from her limb, letting he fall on the floor.

"I meant to."

"You should have just killed me, do you think I like being a freak? I just wanted to be normal," she commented dryly, hardly like the perky façade she had been putting up this entire time.

"Sometimes things don't go as we planned, but it doesn't mean you can't have what you want. You can still go to Oxford and get that Masters in Biology you all wanted, but now you have an even more important purpose."

"Whatever," Marci snorted and put the stake to her temple, "I'll just do it myself."

And with that she took her other hand and shoved the wooden weapon into her head. She did with such force that her blood splattered on Angel and Fred. Looking at the mess, seeing the entrails of Marci's brain on the floor as well as the body was too much for Fred. She turned to the other side of her bed and vomited. It was a gruesome sight, a stake to the skull is even messier than a bullet.

"My Giles, that's another slayer that's fallen through your fingers. What is that 2 out of 8?" the First said.

Giles stared at the corpse, his jaw opened. I don't think that she had shown any warning sign of suicide until then.

It went on, "Well I guess it's better than 1 out of 1."

I knew who that was a reference to, and so did everyone else in the room…except for dead Marci and distraught Fred.

"You've done enough damage. Get out," Spike growled.

"Remember, I made you go crazy…kill. I can do it again," it's, using mine, eyes narrowed, "Then again what's the point? The Mist shall take everything away, anything you cared about—that'll make you go mad."

It strolled out as Wynn came in, who didn't find it strange that a dead man was walking... then again she never knew me, how would she know what I looked like?

"Giles, if Marci is whining again about me repeating punk songs-" the Welsh slayer began but stopped at the sight of her now deceased companion.

"Wynn, please go to a nurse or doctor. Tell them there's been an accident- I mean, a suicide," Giles ordered but not in a firm voice.

Wynn exited slowly, like she had been paralyzed. She tried to stifle a sob but it came anyway. Soon people came, covered the body, and asked what happened. Giles explained, leaving out the part of about the First. It was amazing how fast the police came and then the morgue. Angel, Gunn and Spike follow its employees, while Giles stayed behind with the slayers.

I trailed behind them. It had been the second death in less than 24 hours. I'm sure it hit Fred the hardest. She had babysitted Marci and they must have known each very well if Fred knew she wanted to go to Oxford and a Biology degree. She probably met Marci when the would-be slayer was still a young child, still innocent. I'm not sure what would hurt Fred more, Marci's death or her complete lost of hope that led to it.

Soon they were in the reception area of the London Morgue.

"May I help you?" a man at the desk asked sleepily, this was the graveyard shift after all. 

"We need to see a body."

"Are you the police?"

"No, friends of the deceased-"

"You can see the body after we're done with it,"

Gunn groaned and walked into the back, where the examinations took places as well as the bodies were stored.

"You can't go there-" the man was cut off, he passed out. Angel had used a pressure point, and it appeared that the man had just fallen asleep.

"Do you have to be so fancy? I would have just knocked him upside the head," Spike commented as the two vampires went into the back.

There was woman with a large leather-bound book, reciting Latin, who sounded much like the woman on the phone, standing over a body… my body.

Next time: The group has to call upon every powerful witch they know, or at least have connections to, in order to have a chance to dispel the particles of the patches of the Mist. Also, Belle and Wolfram & Hart come back into the story.


	11. Mortal Remains

A/N: I officially hate Friday the 13th/ Valentine's day. I can't believe there isn't going to be another season of Angel on the WB. I'm I the only one who thinks it's ironic, the WB stopped showing Buffy after its 5th season, and now Angel. I hope they move networks or something (doesn't TNT run its past episodes). And they announced after its 100th episode and in the middle of the season too! Why didn't they tell us this at the beginning of the season, so that the writers could have a chance to foreshadow the big Apocalypse I've always imagined for the series' end? I'm ranting again…please review, it'll take my mind off of all this.

Disclaimer: I don't own Angel.

Gunn tackled the mortician, stopping her from finishing her Latin phrase.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" she screamed from the floor, as she pushed the lawyer off of her.

"You think we're going to let the Mist use Wesley's body," Gunn replied.

"You gits," Spike held up her book, "It's a medical book, and she was just saying the Latin name for…" his brow knotted in confusion.

"It was trying to say the full name for the larynx," she clarified, "That's the last I'm talking aloud."

Angel hadn't taken his eyes off of my body since they came in. It gave the false illusion that I was at peace. Then I noticed that the scar on my neck was open.

"Did you cut that open," Angel said, his tone was a mixture of sadness, fear and anger.

"No, that's the strange thing. Right after I got off phone with some guy named Spike I noticed that. I assume it reopened after death. It's amazing that he actually survive that, as well as the gunshot wound I observed and a stab wound directly below his jaw-line. Though that weapon seemed to be rounded, my guess is a letter opener-"

"Crucifix," Angel replied.

"That's interesting. And to top that all off he dies in a car accident, but not from the crash but something else," she said as she stood up and brushed one of Gunn's business cards off her.

"I thought you were just going put down that crash as the cause of death," Spike said.

"Yes, but that's before I saw that gash. I tried working on other cases but this one just kept bugging me, so I went back. I was just about-"she stopped midway in her sentence, she had just read the business card. I had a feeling that this wasn't the first time she had dealt with Wolfram & Hart employees. Then again, her walking up and slapping Angel was another hint.

"You bastards, you probably just want this body, take away the evidence of one of you clients that killed him with some spell or something. I'm sorry but there is nothing you can pay me to get me to give this body to you. And if this is a threat from my half-sister, tell her to come here and do it herself,"

"We're here to see if that mystical energy that killed him was out, and it obviously is if he's opened," Gunn yelled, and then paused, "Who's your sister anyway,"

"The Beast's other half. And there was no mystical energy, I didn't see anything strange,"

"We think you have to be dead in order to see it, or at least at this stage-"

"So how can you know it even exists!" she laughed, "Dead men tell no tales and I should know…" she trailed off realizing what they were.

"Get out," she growled, taking a cross off the wall.

"Do you think Belle would be very happy if you tried to kill some vampires?" Angel asked, having figured out the woman's riddle.

She continued to walk forward, pointing the cross towards Gunn and Spike. She didn't think Angel was a vampire, but rather Gunn because he tackled her.

"You actual know her first name, she usually insisted to be call Ms. Tanner. She's not even a real Tanner you know. Mum was raped one night by a demon and had that abomination. And yet my father could still look over Belle and married her."

"I don't really care, I don't work for her."

"But it says on the card-"

"Read a little closer next time, we work in the LA branch."

She glanced at the card, to make sure he wasn't lying, "You're right, so why are you in London, it's pretty far from sunny California."

"A gala, but that's not important. When you saw the gash, did you feel cold Ms. Tanner?"

"Please, call me Lydia, it'll distinct me from…her. To answer you're question, no. I've worked here for a longer time. Nothing really bothered me, and that isn't what you meant," she observed the look on Angel's face.

"It never got out," Spike whispered.

"What?" Gunn and Lydia said in unison, her head turned over to the blonde vampire.

"Because it was never inside," he finished.

"What the hell does he mean?" she asked.

Spike move around the table on which my body laid, "When Fred was possessed by the Dark Mist she said it was ripped out, and I'm pretty sure she meant Wesley's soul. The Mist never got in."

"But why? Did he know something?" Gunn asked. It was a good theory but I didn't even know what the Dark Mist was until Giles explained.

"His death, it was a distraction. It meant to screw up, to kill him," Angel answered in horror, still looking at my mortal remains.

"A distraction for what, to possess Fred, but it screwed up with her too… oh God, Fred. You don't think…" Gunn looked at Angel. 

He continued "Marci was her suicide another distraction for it to get into Fred?"

"It won't go for Fred," Angel replied.

"If I was and evil, ancient force would I possess someone I already failed at or a supernaturally strong one that I hadn't touched?" was Spike's sarcastic rhetorical question.

"Take-take the body," Lydia stuttered in fear.

"We don't really-" Angel began.

"Take the God-damn body," she screamed.

"This won't affect you-"Angel was once again interrupted.

"If they aren't interested, we'll take the corpse for you," Belle Tanner walked in with Josephine behind her.

Seeing her sister visibly shook up Lydia, her anger was now replaced with terror. She stepped back and moved her arms upward causing her sleeve fall to her elbow, revealing some nasty scars.

"Little sister, a cross only works on vampires," Belle smiled wickedly.

"I know siblings get into fights, but I think using talons is cheating," Angel said stepping in between the two.

"At least I didn't kill her, that's what I heard you did to your younger sister."

"Was, was she bad?" Lydia asked Angel.

"If you consider innocent young girls bad, but then again vampires tend to have twisted logic," Belle answered the question.

Lydia jaw dropped, and then anger filled her, "You lied to me."

"I never said I wasn't a vampire," Angel replied.

"No, about you wanting to help. You're a creature of the night, you want this 'Mist' to win."

"No I don't-" Angel stopped since Lydia pressed the cross onto his back. It sizzled, and there was the smell of burning flesh for a moment. Angel quickly turned and knocked the crucifix out of her hands.

"If you give us the body, I'll save you from him," Belle said.

Lydia glared at her, "I rather died in his hands than give you any pleasure."

"I'm not going to kill you, just don't try to hurt me," Angel commented as he turned to face Belle.

"Just because you don't want our help that doesn't mean we won't get involved," Belle informed.

"You aren't taking-" Gunn said but Jo decided to shut him up by throwing a knife dangerously close to his head.

"If we work with you will you leave Wesley's body alone?"

"No, we'll still take his remains but if you work with us you can see where we are taking, going to do with it."

"Can we use your contacts?"

"Depends, could you specify?"

"The most powerful witches and warlocks,"

"You aren't bargain with Wes!" Gunn cried out.

"Why not? And it isn't Wesley, just his body," Spike said. I agreed with Spike, I was dead. They had to do whatever to stop the Mist.

"It's not like we going to cut him up and eat his bones anyway," Jo remarked.

"What's the price?" Angel asked

"Excuse me," Belle said.

"Webber said we could come back for a price,"

"Yes, he did, probably some of your blood, about a pint?"

"Why, I don't qualify to be a donor."

"Very funny. The blood of a vampire with a soul will probably come in handy on certain spells."

"Hey, why don't I get to spill some. Peaches isn't only freak of nature nowadays" Spike said.

Belle rolled her eyes "I suppose the both of you could."

She snapped her fingers and a group of people came in, to prepare to transport my body. Lydia was in the corner and she wasn't going to fight over my body like she had promised earlier, then again she didn't know what was really going on. She was in her own world, trying to ignore this one, ignore her half-sister's presence.

"Gunn, I don't want to hear. Go to Giles make sure the slayers are okay. Tell him to contact the Coven and any other powerful witch he knows, maybe Willow. Spike, if the Mist is going try what we think it is, you have to be the others eyes, since you can only see it," Angel gave out his orders.

Gunn nodded, but he wasn't happy about the situation and left the room as soon as he could

"There a particular reason why you aren't moving?" Spike asked Angel, watching a man pull a zipper over my face.

"You think the First was telling the truth?"

"It has a funny way of finding the truths that'll rip you up."

"Can we save him?"

"I don't know," Spike kicked an imaginary pebble, "but standing around here isn't going to help."

Next Time: Wesley has to decide who to follow, Angel to Wolfram & Hart or Gunn and Spike to the hospital.


	12. Reunions

A/N: Thanks Doremi for the comment on Lydia, the coroner, if you like that you'll definitely like a scene in this chapter. Thank you all for your reviews, please continue with them.

Disclaimer: Read my words, I don't own Angel.

I was torn between whom to follow. I was the only one that could pull the Mist out, well at least out of Fred. Would I be any good if Spike's hunch was right, none of the slayer even knew me. I was curious about what would happen to Angel at Wolfram & Hart. However, the slight chance that I could help take out the Mist outweighed that. Besides Angel could take care of himself. 

Belle came up to Lydia who was in the corner, slightly shaking. 

"What little sister, are you afraid of me?" Belle smirked.

Lydia looked up with hatred in her eyes, "Get out of here."

"You know why you hate me so much," she came closer, that their noses were nearly touching, "Because you don't want to admit that you want to be just like me. Why the help do work in a morgue, it's to be dark and sadistic like me. Hell, you even wear your hair the same way as me!"

"You're wrong," the coroner gritted through her teeth.

"Just remember Lydia," Belle used her thumb to make a cut in the woman's cheek, "I have power, so you can never be like me."

She turned and walked away. Any fear Lydia had turned into pure fury. Her fingers tighten around the large crucifix until her knuckles were white.

"Belle," Lydia called.

"Yes," she replied no bothering to look at the speaker.

"I'm not a little girl anymore, I have power."

"Lyd-" Belle began to laugh but was cut short by her sister swing the cross into the side of her head. Her body crumpled to the floor, blood dripping through her violet hair. Everyone gaped in silence.

"Damn, you should have played baseball," Gunn commented.

Jo began frantic as she came onto the floor next to her boss, "Ms. Tanner, Ms. Tanner."

The slayer shook Belle slowly at first and then more violently. 

"Hmm, crosses can hurt her," Lydia remarked.

Jo eyes turned to her, "You killed her."

The Scottish woman was about to attack the vengeful sister when a soft moan stopped her.

"I'm still alive, can't kill me that easily," Belle pushed herself off the floor, leaning again the metal wall with body drawers. Before the demon hybrid had a chance to catch her breath Lydia took her by the throat and raised her up.

"You know why you hate me," she repeated what Belle said earlier using a scalpel to make a laceration in the same place on her cheek, "Because you want to me just like me."

She threw her sibling on the floor.

"If you ever step another foot in my morgue again I'll kill you," she said to Belle and then addressed the audience, "All of you, get out!" 

Everyone obeyed no wanting to bring on her wrath.

Outside the building Spike talked to Angel, "As soon as we get rid of the Mist from whomever it's trying to invade I'm coming to collect you at Evil Inc." 

"I don't need saving Spike," Angel said, turning to follow the team with my body.

"Yeah, and without me you would be a bedridden lunatic."

The older vampire rolled his eyes and continued on.

Gunn drove back to the hospital with Spike in the seat next to him, constantly toying with the radio station to find "some fairly decent music". Thankfully they arrive before he could find some.

They hurried to Fred room, to find her in a fitful sleep as well as many of the slayers. Giles was swearing at his cell phone since it wasn't cooperating.

"Hello, Willow. Sorry, my phone dropped the call again. We haven't been attacked. No I want you to get here as fast as you can, by the fastest jet in Brazil, or maybe even a teleportation spell. No, no, don't teleport all the way from Rio de Janeiro to London, hop every 50 miles or so. It doesn't matter how you get here, just very fast and by tomorrow. Alright, Willow call me back when you can, Good-bye."

He look over at Gunn and Spike, "How did things at the morgue go?"

"We got bad news and more bad news," Gunn replied.

The talking had awoken a few of the girls and then Fred shot straight of her bed.

"Wesley," she shouted in my direction and for a second I thought she could see me, but I came back to reality when she looked down at her sheets, panting. 

"Bad dream, love?" Spike asked.

Fred nodded, "What did you find out?"

"That Belle can have the tar beaten out of her by her sister," he smiled.

"As much as that joys me, what about the Mist?"

"It was never in Wes, it didn't mess up. It meant to kill him, his death as a distraction for it to possess Fred. And we think that Marci's death may be the same thing so if anyone is feeling cold and is having an out of body experience please raise you hand," Gunn announced.

Everyone stared back at him and then Wynn spoke.

"You're too late," she said, raising her head to reveal pitch black eyes.

"Damn," Gunn shouted as he pushed Wynn in her seat, Giles helped him, while Spike tried to find where the Dark Mist was entering. He found a slash on her forearm right before her elbow began. She must have gone it during the fight, it must have been a little scratch then but because of the Mist it had grow and went down to the bone.

"This body, so much power," it said through Wynn.

"Bullocks," Spike said.

"What?" Gunn asked having a harder time keeping he down, soon some slayer came to help.

"I can see it,"

"And that's a bad thing?" Giles remarked.

"It means that the possession is in its final stages. Damn it, I can pull it out, my hand keeps going right through it."

"Wynn, look at me. You can fight this thing. Fight it!" Giles shouted.

"No…she can't" Fred whispered.

At that moment the nurse, Nancy entered the room, not looking very pleased but her face changed as soon as she saw Wynn in her state.

"Wynn…what's wrong?" she asked, trying very hard not to panic.

"Mum," she whispered, her eyes returning to normal for a split second.

Giles kept repeating what he said earlier as her mother continued to speak, "Please get through this Wynn. I'm sorry, I never should have kicked you out, maybe then I could prevent this. I'm not sure if you know this but I still love you. A mother's love is unconditional. You can dye you hair any color, stay out until the early morning hours, do whatever drug and you still can't change my love."

"I love you too," she whispered, her mother nearly on the verge of tears.

Suddenly Spike was able to yank out the Mist out of her. He did so with such force that he stumbled back a few steps. He and I both watched it swirl out of the room and buildings very quickly.

Nancy put her hands on her child's face, "I hope this will be a reason for you to get off of narcotics, dear"

The comfort in Wynn now brown eyes disappeared with that comment. She took her face away from her mother.

"I've been clean for 6, well, 5 months. Really, I'm not dependent on it anymore."

Nancy stood up, "You're not? So explain what happened just now. I want you to go over down into the emergency room with me and tell them you just had a possible overdose. And you," she shot her head over to Spike, " if you gave her some other illegal drug to counteract, I'll-"

"She doesn't have drugs in her, and I didn't put any in," he said.

"So explain the slash near her vein, did she shoot up!"

"Mum, I'll take a damn blood test to show you that I'm not high!" Wynn screamed, rising from her seat and then unsteadily falling back into it. I was surprised that she had passed already like Fred had.

"No, taking blood from you isn't a good idea. If anything you might need a transplant," Gunn said, helping her back down.

"Who are you, her dealer? Really I don't care, all of you get out! Wynn you're staying with me."

"No," she simply replied.

"What?"

"You can think whatever you want about me but I'm staying with them."

"Fine, go with them, just get out of this hospital!"

Everyone began collecting their things, including Fred.

"Miss, what are you doing?" Nancy asked sincerely.

"If they go, I go," Fred answered. She reached for a robe and her clothes.

"But-"

"If you're not letting them stay, I'm not staying," Fred repeated her.

Nancy simply unfolded a wheel chair in the corner and pushed by Fred's bed, and left the room.

"Well, at least that time she didn't disown me," Wynn said as she got up once again.


	13. Lessing Time

A/N: Thank you to all of you that have reviewed, please continue with that!

Disclaimer: I don't own Angel.

As the group left the hospital, surprisingly being lead by the wheel-chaired Fred, Angel ran up to them.

"How did the donation go, did you get a cookie afterwards?" Spike commented sarcastically.

Angel didn't pay attention to this, "I got some contacts. What happened here? Why are you leaving?"

"My mother thinks that my possession by the Mist was drug-related, even though I'm clean," Wynn replied, her voice sounding weaker than usually. Giles managed to stop the bleeding, and stole some liquid stitches containers to keep the gash close.

"Oh, well then all you are going to have to come to Dover with me."

"Dover? What's there?" Giles asked.

"An order of powerful witches that Wolfram & Hart has ties too. They could help us disperse the Mist,"

"Right, I called Willow and I contacted the Coven. More witches and power we get the more likely we'll defeat the Dark Mist,"

Everyone soon piled into the two cars. Wynn was once again in Angel's rental car, seating next to Fred. Even though they never talked the two seemed to have an understanding with each other. Dover was about 100 kilometers away from London so it would take more than an hour to get there. During the trip Fred fell asleep along with Wynn, who rested her head on her shoulder, and Gunn dozed off too. Angel allowed Spike to drive, after Spike opened the door to the passenger seat. I supposed it was because he wanted the younger vampire to be concentrating on the road rather than the radio.

The two automobiles followed the winding, country road. Along the sides were some towns but nothing big. Most of the time it was only the headlight that shine into the darkness ahead. I don't know what it was but I sensed something odd in the car.

My estimation was right and after an hour of driving Angel started to give Spike directions. They arrived at the mouth of a cave.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Fred asked sleepily, she stretched and then let out an involuntary gasp of pain. She still should have been in bed.

"Powerful orders tend to be…traditional," Angel explained. Spike got out of the driver seat to help Wynn and Gunn assisted Fred from out of the car. 

"I wish we would have taken some aspirin or something with us. My arm feels like it's been ripped apart, it probably is," Wynn said with a little smile.

"Let's go," Angel said walking into the cavern. The others from Giles car followed him and so did everyone from Angel's car but Spike, who was supporting Wynn, lagged behind. Spike was staring at the car, and you could tell from his face that he was a little confused. Something just didn't fit.

"Come on," Giles yelled, and the two hurried into the underground chamber. 

The rock walls were lined with torches as well as Latin written on the walls. Giles took one of the torches and led the way. As the group descended father down the Latin words became more numerous and the torches less.

I stopped for a moment to read it. It was a regional dialect so I didn't recognized all of the words but I got the basic message. Something about "a great power lies here, only disturb if you wish to rid of the world your enemy".

They came to a large wooden door with an intricate design burned on to it.

"Let me be rid of my enemies," Angel declared loudly and the door swung open, as not to displease he. The group entered the large circular room; the ceiling went at least a hundred feet up, with stalactites hanging from it in a pentagram arrangement. The floor was covered with what looked like to be vines. Flowers were on the walls, in between the torches.

"What are we suppose to do?" one of the slayers asked, walking around the circumference room. 

"Rid me of my enemy, oh Alsopi," Angel said again.

Alsopi, that was a legendary demon that the monster from Beowulf is based on. I thought it had been killed long ago. I was wrong. The "vines" on the floor grabbed the legs of everyone but Angel. In the center of the room, directly below the center of the stalactite pentagram, a large figure rose out of the floor. It was twice the size of a normal man and it had grapefruit size eyes that were completely black. Its mouth was open, letting everyone see its arsenal of razor-sharp teeth. It's skin was the same color as the "vines", or rather tentacles, a sickly green. Its arms were long and bony and had talons. And if this demon was anything like the monster in Beowulf, it ate people alive.

"Angel, help us!" Fred said, trying her best to free herself.

"It's not Angel. Damn it, I knew something was weird when I never hear him open his door," Spike yelled, biting into one of the tentacles, and then spitting.

"Yeah, but I am," the real vampire stormed in, using an ax to cut away the tentacles that wanted to grab him. Alsopi screeched in pain, it was angry now. It swung one of the slayers to itself, putting its arm around her and digging its nails into her forearms. It opened its mouth to bit the girl's shoulder.

"Take one sip of her blood, any you shall die," declared one of the robed women behind the real Angel. So the First wasn't lying, there was an order of powerful witches in Dover. Alsopi paid no attention to this and he sank his teeth into the girl shoulder and both of them screamed in pain. It dropped the girl to the floor, her blood was like acid, burning its mouth and its insides. It collapsed and sank into the ground, and the tentacles became dormant once again.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief but then Fred let out a gasp.

"Angel, what happened to you?"

It wasn't until she said that when I notice that Angel's clothes were ripped, and a large burn mark ran down the side of his face. Evidentially Wolfram & Hart and more in mind that just blood.

"A lot, but that doesn't matter. We have to get back to London. The First didn't kill you all but it did hurt us by taking away time, and that's something we don't have much of."


	14. Today

A/N: Sorry this took so long to put up, life's been hectic. Please read and review, this is one of the last chapters.

Disclaimer: I'll make this simple, I don't own Angel.

"So, did Wolfram & Hart torture you?" Spike asked gesturing to all the marks and burns on Angel. His question had been one on everyone minds, and it finally broke the silence in the car.

"It wasn't that bad, just silt my wrist. In order to talk to the Dover Order though, I had to go through all these trails. Then they yelled at me for not telling them exactly what was going on. If I had told them, they would have skipped the trials, that I wasted time."

"So you did all of these trails for nothing, where have I heard this before?" Gunn commented, trying to lighten the mood a little but that backfired.

"We really don't have that much time."

"How much?" Spike asked, a groan from Wynn followed, she had fallen asleep with Fred again, but it wasn't a deep one.

"'When the Sun sets today, the Dark Mist shall rise and engulf the Earth' or at least that is what their leader said," Angel replied.

"That's what I call short notice," Spike remarked.

"What do we have to do," Gunn asked holding on the door handle because of Angel's fast and sharp turns down the country road.

"I'm not sure, but I have a funny feeling that it will be disperse like it was last time,"

"But that means a Champion or Champions would have to-" Gunn stopped himself realizing what was going to happen.

"Which one of us?" Spike asked.

Before Angel could response his cell phone rang. He picked it up and pressed it to his ear.

"Angel," I could hear Lorne on the other line.

"Hello Lorne," 

"Is there anything new going on because I got a call from Willow a little while ago asking for a supersonic jet, and I've been trying to call you since, but you didn't pick up,"

"Sorry, I was a little…tied up. I going to give the phone to Spike, he'll explain what's been going on. I have to concentrate on the road."

It was another hour back to London, and if what the Dover Order was saying was true, it was an hour too much. We returned to Giles' crowded flat, where there were more sleeping slayers. That is when the leader of the Dover Order, never telling us her name, explain what would need to be accomplished before sunset. There was a lot more to the dispersal of the Dark Mist than what Giles told us. It required a crystal, filled with a potion, to focus the energy of the Champion or Champions' lives.

"This isn't any potion it requires more than your run of the mill ingredients, but personal ones. For example, if the Mist has killed anybody," she looked at their faces and she knew it had, "we'll need a small possession of his."

"I'll go to the hotel and get one of Wesley's bags," Angel said somberly, heading toward the door.

"No, it had to be on him when he died--clothing, watch, etc."

Spike, Gunn and Angel looked at each other. Wolfram & Hart had just taken my body, which was in one of the offices near Belle's according to Angel. Everything else still was at Lydia's morgue. Before the three could say something to one another a familiar red-haired witch walked in. 

"Willow, how did you get here so fast" Giles greeted.

"I hopped on a certain law firm's very fast jet," she glanced at Angel.

"Who is this?" the leader of the Dover Order asked, her face looked as if she had bit into a lemon.

"This is the witch who made all of the Potentials into Slayers," Giles announced proudly.

"Oh so you the stupid little child that did that?" she sneered.

"I wouldn't call myself stupid," Willow approached the woman.

"I would, you may have stop the First's army of vampires but you gave it a new army, all it has to do is corrupt it. Besides, after this generation the well of power will have been used up, and the First wouldn't have to deal with slayers any more!"

Trying to avoid a fight Gunn quickly stepped in, "So, what other weird potion ingredients do we need?"

"Nothing the Dover Order can't handle," she snapped.

"How are we going to scatter it's particles, it's still in patches. Are we going to chase down every patch?" Wynn asked but with an air of confidence that showed she already knew the answer

The leader of the Dover Order looked down, "No, that will take to long, in order to destroy it we must help it a little by performing a spell to bring the patches together."

"So basically, if we screw up it's the end of the world? I'm going to take that as a yes. So if I were you, I would be trying to shun away incredibly strong witches like Willow," Wynn said.

Willow had a smile of satisfaction on her face and then her eyes fell upon Spike. First her eyes were filled with shock and then anger.

"Get out of here. Do you think you could fool me," she hissed.

It took a moment for Spike to realize what she meant. She though he was the First, and he planned to play along with it, rather than letting her know he was alive. She was too close to Buffy not to tell her.

"Well then Willow, I'll be leaving," he said somewhat awkwardly, heading towards the door. At that moment a slayer, who had dozed off once again awoke with fright, and accidentally kicked Spike in the shin.

Fighting the urge to swear, I suspect, he continued, "Don't you like the new trick I learned. I'm corporeal!"

But there was no fooling Willow, she walked up to him and hugged him. Thankfully Spike didn't need air to live. She then took a step back and slapped him.

"Why haven't you called?" she said.

"It's been…complicated. And what was I suppose to say 'Hey, Scobbies, I'm back from being burnt to a crisp?' Really Willow I want to, well no, but I know we need to talk about it but not now. How about after we stop the Mist," he said and looked to Angel and Gunn, "I hope your car has those fancy tinted windows, because we're going back to the morgue."

Angel's rental did have those special windows (it was being lent from Wolfram & Hart) and they were back at the morgue. The sun was being to rise, on what could be for the last time, unless they could help it.

Spike and Angel quickly hurried into the morgue.

"What did I tell you?" said a familiar, harsh voice from the back.

"Well Lydia, we are already dead," Spike said 


	15. The Gathering

A/N: Thank you to those who have reviewed. Please continue especially since we are coming to the climax. Sorry it took so long to update, but there was a major hole in the plot and I had to do a lot of things to fix it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Angel.

            Lydia came out of the shadows, looking deranged with her hair messy, a little smile on her face and what appeared to be a bone saw in her hand. She threw it at Angel but he caught it by the handle.

            "Lydia, where's Wesley's clothes,"

            She seemed dazed and her eyes glazed over.

            "Hello, anybody in there?" Spike yelled, annoyed.

            Then Lydia suddenly collapsed onto the floor, face first. The two were able to see the tranquilizer dart in her back. Angel looked up to see Belle down stand behind with the gun.

            "There probably in the trash or some room, they tear clothes up," she responded, she reached to drag the limp woman.

            "Don't touch her," Angel growled.

            "You think I was going to let her get away with what she did to me—really it doesn't matter, as long as you stay out of my way, Wolfram & Hart will stay out of yours. And I do think the Mist is bit more important than some coroner that no one will miss," she responded, still dragging Lydia. Angel didn't stop her exiting through a door in the back, past the body drawers.

            In silence the two searched for my clothes or anything else I was wearing when I died. After a few moments, Angel found my jacket. Gunn had pulled the car into a dark alley by the building and the vampires filed into the car.

            "Hey, did you get in a fight with Belle over some other body, because I saw her come out but I didn't see what body it was-"

            "It was an unconscious Lydia," Angel replied.

            "And you let Belle take her,"

            "Well yeah," Spike said, "I choose the world over that psycho."

            "What?" Gunn shouted as drove the car back to Giles' flat.

            "Belle said that if we didn't get in her way, Wolfram & Hart wouldn't get in ours," Angel explained.

            "And you really think that they keep that promised?" Gunn half-asked, half-yelled.

            A tense silence filled the car, and Spike reached for the radio dial, but in unison Angel and Gunn said, "Don't".

            They were back at Giles' flat but founded only Fred, Wynn and a few slayers.

            "Everyone's out look for ingredients-" Fred explained from the couch, next to a weary Wynn, but stopped when she saw my shirt clutched in Angel's hands. 

            "Umm, we got it," Angel said awkwardly, his fingers wrapping around the material.

            "Yeah," she said quietly, but then a sleepily Wynn accidentally jabbed her in the gut, "Ouch."

            "Oh sorry," Wynn asked and then look at Fred's shirt, which now had a thin, light streak of blood on it, "The stitches still bleeding?"

            "Your stitches are bleeding?" Gunn asked very concern.

            "Just a little, and now it's stopped," she replied.

            "Still we should get you to a hospital, it should have been there until noon anyway-" Angel began but was interrupted.

            "Angel, I'm not going to sit in a hospital bed when some evil force of nature that killed Wesley, take over the world!" she screamed, that was followed by many deep breathes. I couldn't help but notice tears forming in her eyes.

            Before anyone could say Willow walked in with what looked to be the claw of a Serion demon. 

            "One ingredient down, one million to go" she said sarcastically. 

            It took the majority of the day to find everything for the potion, and just about everyone but Fred and Wynn who were convinced to rest, ran errands. It was nearing late afternoon, when Willow and the leader of the Dover Order finally caught up with each other.

            "Are you sure we have everything?" the red-haired witch asked.

            "Yes, I am, do you want to see the scroll!" she replied.

            "A matter of fact I do."

            The older witch handed it to Willow, who inspected it. She nodded after each ingredient they had but then horror washed over her face.

            "And you called me stupid," Willow whispered.

            "What?" the other witch said annoyed, looking at the yellowing paper over Willow's shoulder.

            "We have all the stuff the Dispel Spell but not the Gathering Spell-"

            "They both use the same things-"

            "For the Gathering Spell we need the body of someone killed by the Mist and the heart of an unclean."

            "Where's the body?" the Leader said, with the same terrified tone as Willow, time was running out

            "Wolfram & Hart," Angel said simply, grabbing his coat, pulling it over his head and going into his rental car.

            The other followed in their own vehicles. Willow figured in order to have enough time that they spell would have to be performed at Wolfram & Hart, preferable its rooftop. She said the a center of evil would probably make the Gathering Spell easier that way, if they even got all the components for the potion that was to splatter in a circle for the Gathering Spell. Angel and them had to be at least 2 times over the speed limit and amazingly no police came after them.

            The group barged through the door of the law firm much to the dismay of one of the secretaries.

            "Nice of you to show up," the CEO of the Glasgow division snorted as he past by Angel, exiting from another day of meetings.

            They entered into Belle's office, pounding the security team in their wake, but all they found was Josephine filing papers.

            "Where's Wesley's body?" Angel asked.

            "I haven't the slightest clue where," the renegade slayer replied.

            "Well, where's Belle?" Giles interrogated.

            She remained silent.

            "Damn it, Jo, we aren't trying to take you away just stop the Mist!" Wynn yelled, outstretching and dropping her arms.

            "Wynn, what happened?" Jo asked sincerely, noticing the deep gash on Wynn's arm, but before the Welsh slayer could replied she continued, "It was Lydia, that bitch, I so glad that Belle is torturing her in-"

            Jo stopped herself, realizing she had already given too much information.

            "Where's is Belle torturing-" Giles began but Angel and Spike left the room, they could smell blood. In the stairwell the discovered a secret door on the wall of the landing, through trailing the scent.

            In the dim light they could see the corner chained to the wall, and they could hear Belle talking.

            "You may make your statements and you speeches little sister but it's always mine that cut the most, almost like this dagger-" she stopped, hearing the intruders.

"I would stop that if I were you," Angel said, altering into his vampire face.

            " What did I tell you-"

            "Where's Wesley body-" he started but was interrupted by Fred's gasp. Through the open door of another room in the secret complex you could see my body lying there.

            "We got one thing, but now we need a heart on an unclean," the Dover Order's leader said as Angel and others rushed to my body.

            "What does that mean 'the heart of an unclean'?" one of the slayers asked.

            "It's a heart of a demon," Belle replied, "what is it for?"

            "The Gathering Spell for the Mist, do you have one on hand?"

            "No, not in hand anyway," Belle said quietly.

            I, and the rest of the group, then heard Fred laughing.

            "You know what was doing this time yesterday? I was eating this great Indian dinner and about to call Wesley for a ride," her smiles turned into sobbing.

            Spike put his arms around her and tried his best to comfort me, while Angel and Gunn had the job of carrying my body. As the group rushed to roof Willow and the leader of the Dover Order talked.

            "We can't do the Dispel Spell without life energy can we?" Willow stated, rather than asked.

            "No, I fear many of them will become martyrs,"

            "What if we can use something other than their life forces…like the slayer power? I can use that!"

            "But do you have the tool you used when you preformed that spell?"

            "No, but Giles has it. Buffy believes that every new slayer should have it in their hands once, but did he leave if at his flat."

            "I didn't," Giles came into the conversation, handing the ancient weapon to Willow.

            "Let's do this," Willow said determined.

            My body was laid in the middle over a circle of sand that was supposed to be soaked in the potion. However one component was missing.

            "What do you mean they don't have a demon heart, they Wolfram & Hart!" the Dover Order leader cried when Wynn told her. Just then Belle and a tied up Lydia entered the partly shaded rooftop.

            "What do you want?" Giles said in a cold, distant voice.

            Belle paid not attention and untied Lydia.

            "Kill me," she said simply to her half-sister.

            "What?" Lydia yelled, confused.

            "They need a demon heart; I'm demon, or at least half."

            Lydia came closer as if for a hug, which made Belle remark, "Please we don't have time for a long, sappy farewell-"

            Belle never finished the comment. Lydia snapped her neck, instantaneously killing Belle. Lydia used her autopsy skills and cut out perfectly the heart. Blood covered her hands so she wiped them off on Belle's blouse. There was no expression on her face, no remorse, angry, sadness, or even satisfaction.

            Using Belle's heart, the group completed the potion and the Gathering Spell could begin. Everyone joined hands and went around the circle of sand and liquid. Willow and the Dover Order's leader were joined, they both held the crystal for the Dispel Spell. Then Lydia decided to join and no one objected, as if they didn't want to make what she did seem meaningless. Next to her was Wynn and Fred, the two had seem to developed a bond, probably because they had both been possessed by the Dark Mist. Next to Fred was Angel, Gunn, Spike and so on. And in the middle of the circle was me, or at least my body.

            "If you break the circle you will unleash the Dark Mist and the world will come to an end. So don't break the circle at _any_ costs," the leader of the Dover Order informed.

            "Also," Willow announced," all, well at least most of you slayers have officially been unchosen. We are going to have to use your permanent slayer power in order to do the Dispel Spell."

            It was obvious that the slayers were tortured by this. They had spent so much time wishing that they hadn't been chosen, but now they can't imagine life with out being a slayer. It was ironic.

            The leader of the Dover Order didn't let the slayers think too much about it by beginning the Gathering Spell. She spoke in Latin and I caught parts of it, "you've been divided, so now untie. Join together with parts long forgotten."

            Patches of the Dark Mist came swirling into the center of circle, combining with each other.

            I barely heard Spike whispered," And this is the point of no return."

` 


	16. One

            A/N: Thank you thank you to all of the following who've reviewed:

            Doremi4, Tariq, little-lost-one, Freakazoid, shahid, Eloise, WhiteRabbit, bunsdarien, Ilovemypenguin, MidnightzStorm, and Harm Marie!

Tariq, to answer your question Buffy isn't in the story just because she really couldn't help that much (you can't unslayer Buffy!), reunion with Spike would be really messy to write (even though many writers enjoy do that) and the biggest one, the timeline of the story. I hope you like the ending! It may be the last chapter but that doesn't mean you get out of the reviewing thing! Okay now to the long awaited conclusion to The Nothing Man!

            Disclaimer: I don't own Angel

            With all the Dark Mist you could barely see, as if night had come to that part of the planet a little earlier. However it couldn't leave the circle of potion. It wasn't a prefect circle since it was liquid. This allowed it to attack some the group, including Angel and Spike, just trying to find a way to enter them and leaving the circle. The two vampires and some of the others were bombarded by particles of it.  

            However, it wouldn't come anywhere near Fred or Wynn. I then came to the realization of something- once it entered it could never return into that person. That's why it went for Wynn instead of Fred after Marci's suicide, even though Fred had been closer to Marci. I wasn't the only one who noticed it.

            "It won't come near us," Wynn whispered to Fred.

            "Because we know its weakness," she replied.

             "We do?" Wynn asked, confused.

            "Emotions,"

            "I thought it thrived on pain and grief…that isn't what you meant."

            Fred shook her head, "It's weakened by good memories-"

            "By love," Wynn said

            Fred nodded her head.

            I didn't really know how to react to that. I knew Fred had loved me but had it been as a friend, or something more. I quickly dismissed these thoughts from my head, I would never know.

            Willow immediately began the Dispel Spell, using the weapon she had used months earlier to transform the potentials into slayers. At the same time the leader of the Dover Order with the two's hands joined together raised the crystal high.  Even though the Mist couldn't posses the leader of the Dover Order, since there was no gash it could enter so it could push her soul out through her mouth, it seeped into her mouth. This causes her to cough violently and drop to her knees. It was either let go of Willow's hand or drop the crystal, so she passed the crystal to the other witch.

            She quickly gave the crystal to Willow, who held the two objects in one hand. The particles blasted the red-haired witch's skin, just trying to get into her by tearing apart pores. The pain got to be too much, as her knees began to sink.

            She knew she was going to drop one of them soon so she reached out her hand (as well as Lydia's) as far as she could, handing the crystal to Wynn, who was unaffected by the Mist. Willow continued to recite the incantation while the slayer held it and it began to glow a little.

            The First then appeared but I think only to Lydia, and I could only see it since I was dead, a ghost at that. It took the form of the newly deceased Belle, which defiantly stirred Lydia's emotions.

            "You know what you need to do," the First said using Belle's metallic-like voice.

            "I can't…it is wrong," Lydia whispered.

            "You killed me, in the end you were the bad one, not me! Earn your redemption, do this…for me, little sister."

            "Okay," Lydia said a little louder, causing Wynn to look at her oddly.

            Since Willow was concentrating on the spell she didn't really notice Lydia pulling back their hands and into her right pocket. I had barely caught the glimpse of the scalpel she had used to extract Belle's heart when she plunged it into Wynn's gut. It could have been reflective or out of pain but Wynn's fingers began slipping but Fred caught it in hers and Wynn's left hands. It was up to her now and there was no one else I rather trust the fate of the world in. She held it steadily even though Wynn was on her knees as Angel was. Fred did the same very slowly, so she could been able to hold hands easier.

            The First was now done with Lydia, who had officially snapped, and yet she still held on to Wynn and Willow, as if to try and keep some control over her life. It now was going to try to do the same to Fred. What form did it pick, that would cause the most emotions? It was mine.

            "Fred, you're so pure and good. Maybe that's why you always managed to bring out the monster in me…like shooting my father," it said, imitating me exactly.

            "You can't fool me," she replied, completely focused on the task in front of her. Or maybe she was looking at my body, which had once been in the center, but had been kicked accidentally pushed towards Fred by a frighten slayer's leg.

            "You can reason all you want that I'm just the First, some evil thing, but I'm also Wesley Wyndam-Pyrce. I can tell to things that only he would have known because I'm a part of him."

            "But your not all of him, Wesley was so much more."

            "How can you be sure? How-"

            "Because I can feel him watching me," she laughed softly, "Isn't that funny, he's _watching_ me_,_ and he was trained to be a Watcher. I know he's dead, I can see his body in front of me, but I know he's here with me."

            She glanced over at the First with her brown eyes, "Even now."

            "Fine," the First changed its form into Marci and disappeared, at least from Fred's sight.

            "Fred, move away--" Angel choked out, his eyes flashing black, his face changing into vampire form. Angel whether intentionally under the Mist's influence or by accident while trying to fight it off, kicked Fred. Her hands lurched forward and she was about to drop the crystal but then time stopped.

            I looked around me, had Willow done this?

            "Behind ya," a familiar Irish voice. I turned to see Doyle, his hands stuffed into his pockets. Before I had a chance to say something he continued.

            "Don't say anything, there's only so long the Powers That Be can stop time. Though, I would like to thank you, because of you I can deliver my final message and go to…well, wherever I deserve to be. The reason you were pulled out of Purgatory is that it's not your time. Evidently you play a role in the Final Apocalypse, which I figured means the world actually ends or everyone lives in peace and harmony and all that stuff. Try and make sure it's the second of the two."

            He winked and then I suddenly was gasping for air. Reflexively I outstretched my arm from the ground and help Fred keep the crystal up. She stared at me with disbelief.

            I was alive.

A brilliant light shone from the crystal, I could see the slayers gasping the air. Willow's spell had worked.

            The light caused the particles of the Dark Mist to spread away to the corners of the circle, and they flew into little, different colored light…portals into other dimensions and corners of the universe, maybe even alternate universes.

            There was stillness in the circle. It was gone, the threat was over. The sunset painted beautiful colors on the clouds, but not as beautiful as her.

            So I glanced over and smiled weakly at her.

            It was the first thing I ever did.


End file.
